


Feast

by orphan_account



Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: Cannibalism, God - Freeform, Gross, JUST, Kuroha is his own warning, M/M, dead dove don't eat, don't fucking look at me, don't look at me, dub-con, heat haze trash party, very very gross, vivisection at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blindfold is yanked off his eyes suddenly, and he blinks. The room isn't that well lit, but the light is sufficient for him to see. The face he sees is grinning at him, a smile of someone who's probably just about to kill someone. Kill Shintaro. He swallows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feast

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. Just know that this is gross, very gross and explicit, proceed at your own risk. I even grossed myself out writing this, and that's saying a lot. This is probably the worst thing I've ever written, I began writing this like a year and half ago and I'm so glad I'm finally putting this past me. This is sort of my goodbye to the good old times of me being in the Kagepro fandom (not that I won't write for it anymore someday, there's still the possibility of that). Anyway, if you feel like reading 3,5k words of Shintaro getting eaten and fucked, go the fuck ahead.

When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is that his back hurts like hell. What the hell was he even sleeping on? He's cold, too, like there's nothing covering him. He reaches his arm up to cover himself, except he  _ can't fucking move his arm _ .

  


That's roughly the same moment when he realizes that he's tied to something cold, and naked at that, and whoa, it's probably time to panic.

  


The next logical step is probably opening his eyes. He does, but his eyelids are pushing against fabric and he sees only dark. Shit, his eyes are blindfolded. He tries to move, tries to get at least and inch away from the position he's fixed in, but the damn restraints just won't move. All he can do is strain his ears to hear something, to at least determine if there's any background noise, any cars, people, anything.

  


It's quiet for some time, and then he hears footsteps. They are quick, sometimes skipping as if the person jumped up a little. Excited, perhaps.  _ Excited for what?  _ A small voice in the back of his head is telling him that he's going to suffer. Another, stronger voice, a voice he's trying his best to ignore (but knows that it's been growing for the last two years, has become such an important part of him he can't imagine it disappearing), is telling him that he doesn't give a shit, that whatever bad happens, he deserves something so, so much worse.

  


He tries to shut the voice off as the steps come closer, but his ears start to ring, his mind going hazy, a dull pain in the back of his head and he know's he can't escape this. His breaths hitches when the door opens.

  


„ Hello~“ he hears a voice call and it feels like his blood froze because he _ knows that voice _ . It's different, a bit higher, a bit more full of shit, a bit more threatening, but he remembers it, he knows who it belongs to, at least he thinks he does. A lot of people have similar voices, and he hopes so much that he's mistaken.

  


„ Haruka?“ he asks, and his voice sounding a bit too loud in the quiet room.

  


„ No...“ the voice is amused, and getting closer. He hopes this is some sort of a joke, prays to whatever god that might be listening that this will be a joke. He can feel someone's breath on his face now and it smells like death and fear and ice.

  


The blindfold is yanked off his eyes suddenly, and he blinks. The room isn't that well lit, but the light is sufficient for him to see. The face he sees is grinning at him, a smile of someone who's probably just about to kill someone. Kill Shintaro. He swallows.

  


He knows that face, at least a bit, it's similar, too similar to the boy he remembers. But it can't be, not with how the other is looking at him. It can't be, it's someone else. He remembers a name, a name that isn't Haruka's, but it seems like it slips away whenever he tries to formulate it.

  


„ But you know, I knew him.“ he's saying as he walks off somewhere, probably to the corner of the room.  _ So he knows Haruka _ ? „After all, this was supposed to be  _ his _ body.“ Shintaro expects him to break into a laugh, but he doesn't.

  


„ Kuroha.“ he says out loud, almost automatically. He still doesn't know the man, but he remembers the name for some reason.

  


„ So you've remembered?“ a pause, „No, probably not yet. Not fully, anyway. Don't worry, Shin, there'll be enough time for that later. “ he hears him coming closer again, and then the awfuly familiar face enters his field of vision and leans in and he wants to run, he wants to break away, he doesn't want this, no he doesn't want him to get so-

  


a pair of lips touches his forehead, much to his confusion. Perhaps a preparation for something worse? He realizes just how heavily he's breathing. He needs to calm down, think of a plan, do something... he starts taking deep breaths.

  


„ Cute.“ Kuroha says, and even though he can't see him, he can visualise his face just perfectly. He can't fucking believe someone just called him cute. He can't fucking believe he's thinking about this while he's probably going to get murdered.

  


„ Now, I want you to see what I'm doing, so I'll untie your neck. Please don't try to hit your head against the table to pass out, or anything.“ he hasn't even considered this option until now, but it sounds like nothing good will happen if he disobeys. The moment he can feel the straps against his neck and hair are gone, he lifts his head quickly, looking over the room. It's not big, but it's bigger than his own room, probably. He can't see a door, it's probably behind his head. He can see the table, though. There seems to be a at least dozen of syringes on it, all of them filled wih the same ammount of liquid. And that's going to be used on him, isn't it?

  


He feels like he's going to faint, until he feels something touching his right arm. He jerks his head in the direction, only to see Kuroha pressing at various points at his arm, a syringe in his hand.

  


He would have jerked his hand back if he could. This way, his muscles only tighten and go lax again as he strains against the straps.

  


„ Relax, relax, your veins are already nice and visible, you don't want me to do it when your hand is tight like this, trust me.“ the bastard is still grinning as if he knows every secret in the world and doesn't give a shit, making Shintaro actually want to go on with this small act of defiance (he would have done anyway because he isn't even sure if he can control himself anymore, straining against the bonds until his muscles give out). It takes about thirty seconds of struggling for Shintaro to give up.

  


Kuroha seems to have waited for this moment, knowing that Shintaro's arms are too weak from the two years of doing nothing but sitting behind a computer. He's too weak to resist when Kuroha quickly slides the syringe into his vein, it seems like he knows how to do it properly. He doesn't even notice the sting coming with the needle breaking his skin, but the thing he does notice is the warmth spreading first down his hand, then all over his body.

  


„ What... is that?“ he asks weakly, suddenly feeling kind of... dizzy? His heart seems to have calmed down, but he still can't think clearly. Not that there would be any point to it, right? He knows he's not getting out of this one. He absolutely hates that he's okay with that. He absolutely hates that he hates that he's okay with that.

  


„ Don't worry, nothing too bad, will last only a couple of hours...“ Kuroha begins explaining, one of his fingers mapping Shintaro's veins on his arm. „It only slows down your blood flow and weakens the muscles, so we can have more fun together.“

  


Shit. That sounds like poison. The kind of poison a snake would use to paralyze it's victim before...

  


he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's just going to get tortured, he can handle this. He's not going to think about how he's dreamed about this, imagined finally getting what he deserves,  _ craved it _ . He knows that as much as he wants this, his subconscious  _ doesn't _ , and he's going to at least pretend to be a sane, healthy person and try to resist, even though there's nothing he can do.

  


And that's when he feels Kuroha freeing his left hand. He turns in his direction, tries to move his hand and slap him, but his muscles refuse to work- they can move, but they're so weak that Kuroha doesn't even need to make an effort to hold his arm still.

  


„ You know, Shintaro...“ he brings his arm towards his lips, pressing feather-soft kisses over his veins, „I always liked the way you look. So delicious...“

  


Shintaro squirms away, at least tries to, but nothing happens. Kuroha is creepy, but then, what did he expect from a guy who strapped him to a fucking table.

  


Suddenly their eyes lock- Kuroha gives him a smile, something that would actually look nice if Kuroha's face didn't look somehow... twisted? Wrong? Really fucking scary?

  


And then he bites down. He feels the pain shoot through him like a lightning bolt. He gasps, tries to kick his legs, strains against his bonds. He takes a few deep breaths and feels the pain slowly subdue into something dull. Apparently, Kuroha was just waiting for him to calm down, because he moves his head at that, tearing out a little piece of his flesh, oh god,  _ he can see his own meat sticking out. _

  


The scream doesn't come at first, he's struggling to breathe, but Kuroha's finger is soothingly running over his cheek and suddenly there's a wave of cold running through his body and then he's screaming, closing his eyes and trying to stop the scream from coming out of his mouth.

  


There are tears at the corner of his cheeks and Kuroha wipes them off, but his eyes fill up again. He tries not to look into Kuroha's face, not to look at his hand, to ignore all this, but suddenly the fingers that were so soothing just a second ago are gripping his chin, forcing him to look.

  


The blood is already pooling at _the fucking hole in his arm_ , And Kuroha makes a show out of swalowing his meat and chewing slowly. Shintaro gags at the thought, but manages to stop himself from vomiting.

  


Kuroha swallows loudly, giving Shintaro another smile, licking off the blood that's dripping down his hand.

  


Shintaro's head is swimming by this point- he's sure it's the loss of blood, that and the whole situation, but there's a floating though in the back of his head, something along the lines of  _ that looks so hot _ , and Shintaro honestly hates himself for it but he's too hazy to even be sure. He's probably going to pass out soon, anyway.

  


„ You really do taste great!“ Kuroha gives him  _ that  _ fucking smile again, the one he's seen only two times but hates it to the bottom of his guts already. „Don't worry, this time, I'm going to bite down for  _ real. _ “ he adds, and Shintaro closes his eyes, tries to make himself pass out,  _ anything. _

  


His breath hitches when Kuroha's teeth graze over the wound, and then he feels him bite down again. It hurts a lot more this time, and when Kuroha yanks his head back, he knows he's never experienced worse pain.

  


He looks at Kuroha. There's blood around his mouth, and a solid chunk of his arm in his teeth, and...

  


His vision spins and everything goes dark. 

  


…

  


There’s a dull age in where Shintaro’s arms are,  _ would be,  _ he thinks, no emotions following the realization. It feels strangely familiar. He has been in this situation before. Somehow, he can’t bring himself to care. 

  


He opens his eyes and realizes his head and neck are free to move. The rest of his body aches from having been in the same position for so long, but that is still only secondary to the pain in where his limbs were… cut off? Eaten off? Who knows. 

  


And then he turns to see Kuroha sitting on a chair, smiling like he’s looking at something very nice (Shintaro’s stomach does a flip) his legs crossed and chin supported by his hands. 

  


“Good morning~” Kuroha’s voice is disgusting, sounding too sweet, too cheerful (too much like Haruka, but he isn’t going to think about that), greeting him like they’re… Shintaro blinks.

  


He feels dizzy, probably from the blood loss, or whatever Kuroha gave him, but his thoughts aren’t clouded. This  _ has  _ happened before, he remembers Kuroha, but he can’t quite place when or  _ how. _ Still, it makes him give up any resistance he had- he feels like he’s gonna pass out, his body shaking, but there’s a warmth spreading through his stomach. He tells it to fuck off.

  


“Are you starting to remember, yet? Well, even if you don’t, that’s okay. You should, soon enough.” Kuroha is walking closer now; Shintaro just stares blankly. 

  


“I cleaned the wounds, don’t worry. After all, I don’t want to have you die from an infection,” Kuroha just keeps talking, his fingers caressing Shintaro’s cheek, “but well, it’s not like you’ll die from that, anyway.” 

  


Surprisingly, Kuroha’s words calm him down. He already knows he’s gonna die, but the fact that this isn’t new, that Kuroha knows what he’s doing is oddly reassuring. 

  


That’s the moment Kuroha chooses to kiss him- Shintaro lets out a gasp of surprise. Kuroha’s tongue slips into his mouth almost immediately. He tastes like blood, Shintaro idly realizes. Kuroha’s mouth feels hot, unlike the hands beginning to slide up his torso.

  


Just as Shintaro relaxes into the kiss, even begins kissing back (and that’s not new, either, which should worry him but doesn’t), Kuroha’s fingers dip into the wounds. A spark shoots through Shintaro, a sharp sting making him moan out in pain. At the same time, Kuroha’s other hand slides down to stroke his dick.

  


Shintaro wants to move into the touch, but can’t, straining against the restraints. He doesn’t have much energy to, anyway. The conflicting sensations make him want to scream, especially once the pain actually starts to feel  _ good.  _

  


Kuroha pulls his face away a bit, pressing  _ deeper _ into the wound, making Shintaro’s face twist as he sucks in a deep breath. To add to it, Kuroha catches Shintaro’s lips again, then bites hard enough to break skin, to lick the trickle of blood coming from his split lip.

  


“You’re cute when you’re in pain…” he murmurs against Shintaro’s lips. His lips are stretched into a grin, as usual. He seems to stop for a moment, pulling away completely and looking Shintaro over. Shintaro almost misses the touches.

  


Kuroha rubs his chin with his index finger, seemingly thinking about something, his grin fading away before surfacing even more vividly.

  


“Hey, Shin. I’m gonna untie your legs. Don’t kick, okay?” and then Kuroha’s hands are releasing the straps binding his legs down. Obviously, Shintaro kicks. Obviously, Kuroha knows, catches his leg and pins it down with his hand.

  


“I said,” Shintaro doesn’t even see it when Kuroha’s palm swings against his cheek, the blow that much worse by the fact he can’t move. He almost faints then, his ears ringing and his eyes unable to focus, “don’t kick. Do you really want me to get mad?” the threat in Kuroha’s voice is almost tangible, but Shintaro just smiles. 

  


Kuroha smiles back- he gets it, doesn’t he? and then unties his other leg. Shintaro doesn’t kick this time. He knows there’s no point in resisting. He knows he doesn’t want to resist, hasn’t resisted the last fifty times, hasn’t resisted since long ago.

  


“Do you know what I’m going to do, Shin?” Kuroha asks, taking out a scalpel from… somewhere. At this point, Shintaro isn’t surprised. 

  
“Kill me?” he asks dryly, looking Kuroha in the eyes. Kuroha laughs, the sounds bubbling up in his throat like an overflowing boiling pot.

  


“Yes, that too, eventually.” Kuroha seems to be grinning the more Shintaro remembers- he can’t really blame him, with excitement slowly spreading through his veins- he remembers that too, now. “But we might as well have some fun before that, right?” with those words, Kuroha lifts one of his legs, palm sliding over his thigh.

  


Oh.

  


Shintaro can’t bring himself to mind too much- even if he did, there wasn’t much he could do. Kuroha’s lips press to his calf, a smile playing on his lips that Shintaro would call gentle, if it wasn’t on- well, Kuroha’s face, the smile turning somewhat crooked and wrong.

  


“You know, your legs look quite nice… but I guess keeping your legs good looking is expected of someone with a feet fetish.” Shintaro turns away, lightly kicking Kuroha in the face. instead of hitting him again, Kuroha chuckles, lifting the scalpel up to his leg and running it down Shintaro’s leg. 

  


A thin line of red blooms under the knife. The cut can’t be deep, Shintaro knows even in this state (he’s certainly cut himself deeper before, but he doesn’t want to think about that), but it stings a bit when Kuroha runs his tongue up it. A shudder runs through him when the scalpel’s tip is resting against his leg again, and Shintaro himself is unsure if it feels good or bad. 

  


It makes pain flare up in his thigh again, but he's past the point of caring about that- Kuroha's other hand goes down to wrap around his dick, which is surprisingly hard considering the things that are happening. Kuroha rubs his fingers against the wound, spreading it, giggling whenever a pained gasp escapes Shintaro's mouth.

  
  


And then the pressure against the wound is gone, Kuroha's hand covered in blood. It's a familiar sight by now. What he isn't entirely used to is said hand pressing up against his ass.

  
  


„ W-Wait!“ he croaks out, but Kuroha only shushes him.

  
  


„ You know, I originally wanted to use actual lube, but this seems like more fun.“ a finger presses in at that- Shintaro tries to relax as much as he can (it must be obvious because Kuroha chuckles) because Kuroha pushes another in shortly after that, curls them in and spreads them until he presses into Shintaro’s prostate.

  


That helps elevate the pain and Shintaro is pretty sure his back would arch if he wasn’t tied down. Like it is, he can only squirm and whine, much to Kuroha’s delight.

  


“G-god, just put it in already…” he croaks out, prompting a questioning noise from Kueoha. He gets reqarded with Kuroha’s smile again, which isn’t attractive at all, but makes shivers run through his spine.

  


“Well, then...” Kuroha says as he lifts Shintaro’s legs over his shoulders, positioning his dick in front of his ass.

  


It’s not gentle when Kuroha slides in, setting a brutal pace right off the bat. It burns- it must burn Kuroha too, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

  


Shintaro allows himself to get blissfully lost in the sensations, taking in both the pain and the pleasure and letting it fill his mind. It’s easier than trying to take in the absurdity of the situation. He lets himself close his eyes, small sighs escaping him with every one of Kuroha’s thrusts.

  


He feels Kuroha’s tongue sliding over his leg, dipping into the wound. He can’t help but moan a bit louder with that, a shudder running through his body again.

  


Shintaro’s eyes shoot open at the sudden spark of pain when Kuroha bites in. He doesn’t realize he’s screaming until there’s fingers in his mouth, gagging him and making him taste his own blood.

  


Shintaro chokes, overwhelmed by all the sensations Kuroha’s giving him, when Kuroha’s hips start moving again. He’s surprised Kuroha hasn’t pushed the table up to the point it hits a wall with the force of the thrust. 

  


Kuroha keeps biting off small chunks of meat from his leg, licking the blood that slowly drips out of the holes.

  


It hurts, yet arouses him. There’s some twisted pleasure he gets from being treated like this, from the sheer depravity of this, from the fact that he doesn’t care. it feels all too familiar- he doesn’t care about that, either.

  


He finds a laugh bubbling out of himwhen Kuroha bites into an especially sensitive spot. Kuroha seems all too happy to lick at the wound again, to keep making Shintaro see stars from it all.

  


And then Kuroha’s hips hit him at just the right angle, and he screams with his release as everything goes white.

  


\---

When he comes to, the restrains are gone. Not that he would be able to move  anyway. Not that he wants to move, anyway. Knowing Kuroha, it isn’t going to take long now. He’s surprised he hadn’t killed him already with how impatient he usually is.

  


“Oh? And here  I thought our fun time was over already.” he hears Kuroha say, turning his eyes towards him. The look in Kuroha’s eyes is almost fond for his standards- he gets like this sometimes when he’s about to kill him, which is… weird, considering Kuroha is a ruthless murderous  psychopath.

  


He wants to say something, but Kuroha doesn’t give him much time, taking out a scalpel and setting it down on the table.  “You remember everything now, don’t you? You remember asking for this, right?”

  


“I do.” Shintaro merely says, turning to stare at the ceiling. He remembers all the timelines, all the times Kuroha has killed him, but they’ve all faded into the same thing by now. When was it that he stopped resisting? When was it that he started liking it? Doing something, anything like this just makes them more memorable, makes the world a bit less grey. “Are you going to do anything or will you just stare?”

  


Kuroha seems to also have been thinking, blinking a few times before pressing a scalpel against Shintaro’s skin. 

  


“I guess this is a goodbye for now, then. Don’t worry, I’ll be a lot quicker with the other ones.” he feels the blade pressing into skin-  he feels the burn dragging from his chest to his abdomen. They both know how to do it by now, how to make the Y-shaped incision just deep enough to spread the layers of skin and fat and muscle.

  


Kuroha’s grinning, he’s sure he is even when he can’t look, a pained moan slipping out of his lips and his eyes squeezed shut.

  


It feels strange to have someone messing with his insides, so wrong to feel Kuroha’s hand touching places with no nerve endings, to feel him there but not really feel him, all through the pain of being opened up like this.

  


He makes himself open his eyes, sees Kuroha pulling his guts out- his stomach twists with the sight. Kuroha looks them over, then reaches in again, prompting another spasm.

  
Shintaro feels dizzier by the minute, and this is it, he idly thinks, this is the moment he’s gonna die. It’s not like there’s much more he can do- it feels like he’s watching a movie of himself getting torn apart. Throughout the  loops, things have changed, but not this, never this. It’s almost comforting now. 

  


Kuroha bites down into his liver? his stomach? Shintaro honestly can’t tell, doesn’t want to tell. It’s all fading to the background. Time seems to be slowed down, but at the same time Kuroha keeps moving. And before he knows it, Kuroha’s hand digs into his chest, breaks the bone, and with the final pull of his hand out, Shintaro’s mind finally slips away.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate myself so much.


End file.
